


Objects

by merchant_prince



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cliffhanger, Dark, M/M, Original Character(s), Self Translation, Translation in English, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:57:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merchant_prince/pseuds/merchant_prince
Summary: Steve fell from the train with Bucky





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Объекты](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8485534) by [merchant_prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merchant_prince/pseuds/merchant_prince). 



> Well this work was translated by myself (I'm an amateur translator) and edited by my good freind (She is a professional translator). Nevertherless any corrections are welcomed.  
> .

“Erskin’s serum regenerates neural connections of the Object 1 much faster than an experimental formula injected to the Object 2 can. Handling of the Object 1 must be increased” – says a note from a journal made in neat handwriting. Its author lays on the floor. His skull is smashed. His round glasses cracked and dropped from his bridge after a few hits of a fist.

“Unfortunately, doctor Erskin, you didn’t take into account that a good man can be handled” – Steve puts the journal in his pocket and goes further in the dim of corridor filled with screaming sounds of the red alert siren.

There were threading like a needle in temple firm orders, there were dozens of missions. There were dozens of reports, there were medical exams, and then there was a chair again unmercifully reorganizing mechanisms, which wrapped around a head and released current. There was the man behind backs of busy technicians and medics routinely making notes in his journal. Then there was the cold.

Meters of the corridor. Concrete walls. The concrete floor. The incessant siren. Few agents tried to stop him. May be they didn’t even realize, that their necks were being crewed. Signs on walls. Doors. Emergency ladders. Such a well-known way. In the end, here is a room from which any mission started. Here is the chair in the room. Soon everything will be over for them.

There was the second one who followed him on missions step by step, providing the cover, never missing a target from his sniper rifle. There was understanding that he was much more effective together with the second. There was a mission when the second had to be covered, when the order was violated. There was surprise on the usually emotionless face of the man with the journal. There was surprise on his face when he was watching how mechanisms are wiping memories of the Object 1.

When the next time he was waked up from the cold, he remembered what had happened to them.

Steve reaches his aim and enters the room where a few technicians left. They are not armed, but… Doesn’t matter. They will do what is required and will die.

“Have you heard that the Object 1 was out of control? Do you know that the Object 1 used to give orders long time ago. And now I order you to finish the procedure of refreezing”.

There was the beginning when their abilities were tested. There were additional tests for the Object 2. There was a training facility filled with agents and there was an order given “No counterstand”. It was like that – he was watching indifferently how the Object 2 was following the order missing a hit after hit. There was the new order to start a fight with the Object 2. There was blood which had soaked a tactical glove. There were no sorrow, no guilt. There was the man behind the safety window making notes in his journal.

“The Object 1 has the exceptional significance. The Object 2 can be used for tests with the aim of further development of the supersoldier formula. Nevertheless fighting value of the Object 2 has to be saved”, - another note in the journal says.

Technicians succeeded with the procedure. Bucky opens his eyes, looks around vaguely and blankly, tries to move weakly. Technicians are not needed anymore. Now Steve and Bucky can go away.

There was a memory puzzle appeared in his head – dirty sidewalks, high roofs of houses, smiles, laugh, dreams about well-being. It was like that they were not soldiers. And then there was the War.

Steve walks the corridor back and almost carries Bucky. The siren screams the same but nobody tries to stop the mad Object 1. There is no one left.

Handling had not been effective for a long time. The man with the journal noticed changes too late. Steve had hidden his memory, his anger and hatred letting technicians made him go through the wiping procedure, letting them to use him, constantly looking for an opportunity to escape and to save Bucky from this Hell. And then… Return from a mission. Escorting squad lost concentration. They thought that the Object 1 was perfectly obedient. And now here is blood on walls, here is the screaming siren.

A stealth jet is waiting in a hangar. Here Bucky can go without help. Now he can react on Steve’s instructions with nods. The jet is helpful to go as far as possible from the base. What is the next? Improvisation. As if it is the first time.

There was HYDRA’s factory in 1944. There was the first insane escapade of Steve. There was a nickname “Captain America” said in jest. There was Bucky enclosed in a laboratory. There was a way to freedom though rasp of metal and fire. There was a desperate “no, not without you!”

They are in the middle of frozen nowhere and they must move ahead to fool any chase.

‘Is it a mission? – Bucky talks for the first time since they have left the base – Or is it a test, officer?’

‘Was it a test?’ – it is like a training hand grenade is under his ribs again.

‘These are us. No more missions, no more tests. We do not serve them anymore, Buck’

They continue to walk in silence in the middle of frozen nowhere.

‘Steve…’


End file.
